Welcome to Our War
by Dancing Darkness
Summary: Jumper meets Xmen! WOO! It all started with an encounter in a park on a sunny day but, in that moment, a hidden conspiracy was blown wide open to show a world, culture and war they never knew existed.
1. The 'Vanishing Man'

Heya, look who it is! I know I promised a Naruto crossover sequel first but I just didn't feel like it. Writer's block is such an ass. Anywho, this chapter is really to see if anyone likes this idea - is the response is good I'll continue. I'm a real fan of Jumper and I think a crossover would be awesome. This is only the tip of my imagined iceberg!

Sorry that its unbeta'd but I couldn't find anyone to do it for me - if this fic continues then I'd really liek some help with betaing it. Anyone insterested? lol

Enjoy!

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**Chapter 1**

The sun was high, it cast benevolent rays over the park far below. The grass seemed to literally grow with a healthy, vibrant green. The shade below the branches of the trees was gentle as well as cool. The park was a large expanse with many lawns and trees. Children laughed, playing in the sunlight. Many families had come for picnics in the summer perfection. The day, on a whole was beautiful.

In a more secluded lawn at the rear of the park a strange group of individuals were also enjoying the sunshine. A large blanket had been laid out and three adults sat upon its expanse. One was an older gentleman, bald and formally dressed. He sat comfortably in an electric wheel chair, smiling as he talked amicable to a redheaded woman seated on the blanket next to him. On his other side was a woman with much darker skin and an African cast to her features. She had long white hair, oddly enough, and was speaking to a young teenager of similar appearance who had jogged up to her.

The teenagers that darted around in front of the blanket were varied but all were quiet young. They also appeared quite normal, playing and laughing as friends should. That was until one particular individual, a short, pale-skinned boy with dark hair that carried an odd bluish tint, vanished in a plume of smoke when pursued by the darker skinned boy. He reappeared just behind him and jabbed him in the side before running away once more.

"No fair, Kurt!" Spike bellowed after him, "no powers!" His face was still plastered with a devil-may-care grin, so no major harm was done.

"It is not my fault that you cannot catch me on equal grounds," Kurt called back, laughing.

He ceased laughing when a body connected with him solidly, pushing him to the ground with a thud. "Got you" said Scott smugly to the smaller boy. He hit the ground with and 'oof' as Kurt, yet again, teleported away.

Jean merely rolled her eyes, looking to the professor with exasperation. He chuckled, "boys will be boys, Jean," he told her gently.

"Professor I doubt you were ever like that, they act like muscle-headed idiots sometimes," Jean complained with a huff.

"Oh I assure you I could be arrogant in my youth, one cannot escape the revenge of Mother Nature after all." Charles Xavier turned his chair slightly so he could better see the children play. He had arranged this outing for those in the institute not going home for the summer. He felt it was good for them to spend time outdoors as a group and, due to the concealed nature of this section of the park, play somewhere other than the manor grounds with full use of their powers.

He was half way through a conversation with Ororo on ideas for new installations within the institute when he felt the abrupt appearance of another presence directly behind them. It was as if someone had flicked on a light, suddenly there was someone where that had been no one before. _Three someones_, he amended himself. He turned his head to see them but the presences vanished once more, instantaneously appearing somewhere to his left. If happened twice more, each time they appeared in a slightly different location. Upon the last reappearance there was only one presence, the other two had mysteriously vanished.

"What's wrong, professor?"

Xavier turned to Jean but had no time to voice this curious mystery as there was suddenly an eruption activity behind him. He heard the crackling of what sounded like thunder behind them. Every head turned to see what looked like a crack in the very air being wrenched open. Air was sucked into it like a vortex. They had only a moment to blink in wonderment before a man in an odd light grey suit was propelled through it, he stumbled to keep his balance as another arrived behind him.

The two cast a cursory look at the assembly of people before their eyes began to wander over the surrounding foliage. As one they pulled out an odd set of goggles with misty white lenses and a can of spray. After spraying it in the air they donned the goggles and looked around once more.

"I can see five jump-scars including this one," said the first with an air of authority. He reached to a long holster at his side, pulling out a long black rod capped with silver.

"Little shits are getting better, can't tell which one is most recent from here…" grunted the other in reply.

"That's because you're new, fool. See these four-" the man indicated something in the air that the stunned X-men couldn't see, "- these are large scars, more than one person has been jumped through them. At a push I would say three people maybe? But that one over there-" here the man pointed to a tree three meters from where they stood on his left, "- is small and clearly has only had one person jump through it. And, since there are no other scars to say that the person has left…"

"He's still here," finished the other strange man. Abruptly the pair began to look around wildly, "do you have visual?"

"No, I can't see him," replied the first. He moved his hand to the mouth piece of a headset on his right ear. "Sir, group two reporting. We have lost visual on the targets. I repeat: we have lost visual." There was a moment's pause, "yes, sir. I understand, sir."

Scott moved to say something but an arm barred his way, "Professor?" he questioned.

The older man shook his head slowly, "we do not understand what is going on here, Scott. It would not be wise to act now."

There was a whining noise as the other man pulled out a similar stick to the first and pressed a button on its side. The stick sparked with electricity. Behind them the crack in the air abruptly closed, drawing in upon itself. The first swivelled, "Shit! We didn't time the entry! The bastard was waiting for this!" he growled angrily.

"Damn straight!" The voice was confident and mature. They all turned to see a tall man standing five meters away, on the other side of the X-men so they were between him and the two unknown men. He had crystal blue eyes and sandy blond hair that lay in a blustered mess. He wore ripped blue jeans and a faded red shirt; the ensemble looked like it had been put on with haste. On his left cheek there was a bleeding cut. Strangest of all, he wasn't wearing any shoes. In his right hand he held a baseball bat. "I don't suppose we could solve this in a friendly way?"

There was a crackle and electricity visibly jumped around the baton. The two began tot advance in a pincer movement around the picnicking X-men. "That's a 'no' then?" said the stranger wryly.

What shocked the X-men was that, as the first man raised his baton and launched what can only be described as an electrified grappling hook at the stranger, the man simply vanished. It wasn't like when Kurt teleported, there was no characteristic puff of smoke. He was simply gone leaving a strange white ripple in the air behind him.

"That was close and distinctly unfriendly!" They looked to see him, once more, five metres from where he had previously stood. "I see we're going to have to get violent." The man began to run forward, disappearing only to reappear slightly ahead of himself but with even greater momentum. He was a blur to all who watched. He took no longer than two seconds to reach the man who had fired the grappler at him.

The force of the blow was phenomenal. The man was thrown backward, over the X-men, to land in a crumpled heap. The man vanished again as another grappling hook flew at him. The second man's head snapped to the side as a baseball bat impacted on the side of his skull with an awful crack. He fell to the ground lifeless.

"This is g-group t-two," croaked the man on the floor. The taller of the two.

"I don't think so, pal," came the grim response. Suddenly the headset was on the ground in pieces and the stranger was holding the man by the throat. "Now, my lovely, you are going to tell me all you know," the man whispered in a deadly tone.

"I'll never tell scum like you!" the man managed to wheeze.

"Heh, insult me all you like but you've met the dead end. It can be quick or slow. I know a nice bay of sharks off Cuba, nice cold Atlantic sea. Your choice if you wan-" the man's head snapped up as he suddenly turned to look at the gawping individuals. "Ah, kinda forgot we had company…"

He dropped the man unceremoniously back into a heap. He scratched the back of his head and smiled in an earnestly embarrassed kind of manner. "Sorry, guys" was all he said before reaching inside the back pocket of his baggy jeans and dropping the bat with his left hand. It happened so fast that none of the X-men could have prevented it. A gunshot cracked the sky and the wheezing man stopped moving. There was an eerie silence in its wake.

The stranger replaced the gun in his back pocket as Spike managed to stutter out "y-you killed him…" For, though all the younger students were X-men, he had never seen anyone kill another in such cold blood. The elder X-men however, the likes of Scott, Jean, Xavier, Ororo and a newly-arrive Logan, merely narrowed their eyes and mentally prepared themselves.

"That I did. That I did," the man mused to himself. "Well, it is them or us." He spoke as if he were talking to a very small child. "See you round."

Sensing the man was about to vanish Xavier spoke up at last, "what manner of person are you, young man?"

The man turned to him, "young? Hardly, I'm twenty nine!" He chuckled to himself, "best to forget what you saw here. Say anything and they'll find you." He checked his watch and grunted quietly in annoyance, "now I must be going."

"I do not think you will," Xavier commented with a smile and watched the stranger's eyes widen in horror as he realised he could not vanish as before. "As a telepath a great many powers are open to me, if I convince your mind you are unable to teleport then you are unable to do so," he continued jovially. "Now, what manner of mutant are you? Never have I seen one of us so skilled nor in such a deep battle with those weaker than ourselves," Xavier gestured to the fallen humans.

The man was quiet for a moment. Then he started to laugh and could not stop. "Mutant? Me? Oh that's rich!" he managed to stammer out amidst his laughter. He finally managed to stem his laughter somewhat, "I am no 'mutant', old man. Nor do their troubles concern me," he told Xavier, voice thick with amusement.

"You are able to teleport, young man. Not so different to my ward Kurt Wagner," Xavier replied, gesturing to the German boy. "If you are not a mutant as we are then what manner of creature are you?" Xavier's eyes narrowed as the outline of the man began to shimmer uncontrollably, almost like he was having some sort of fit at high speed. His mind struggled to hold onto the man's. One thing was certain, this stranger had an incredibly stubborn will.

"We account for over eighty per cent of the missing children in America, sixty per cent in the world overall. Their authority is strongest here. Want to know what I am? I suggest start reading missing children's reports, old man. It won't tell you much, but the beginning maybe…" Then the man was gone. No sound, no ripple, just a slight huff on the wind. It was as if he'd never been there.

"What now, professor?" asked Ororo, walking to his side.

"I believe it is best we leave this place, this is no scene for the children," the man turned his wheelchair and gazed sadly at the corpses. "Logan?"

"Chuck?" The rough, short man was dressed in a leather jacket, a cigar hanging loosely from his lips.

"I trust you are still good friends with a certain Nicolas Fury?" Xavier did not look at him.

"You'll have the five hundred most recent missing child's reports on your desk by this evening, bub. No need to ask," Logan replied gruffly.

"Thank you, my friend."

"Professor, why are we pursuing them, why not leave them to the Shield-mob?" asked Kurt as he appeared in a slight puff of smoke.

"That young man is dangerous, young master Wagner, it wouldn't do for him to worsen the relations between ourselves and the humans. Also…I am curious as to why he would deny mutant genetics while displaying such obvious symptoms of an X-gene," the professor gazed away in thought.

"Perhaps it is a denial out of prejudice?" mused Jean as they began to walk away.

"No, if it were so simple laughter would not have been his reaction. Missing children is also a serious business, if there is any truth in what he says then he may be a very real link for hundreds of worried parents."

Little more was said as the group journeyed home.

--

Miles away a pair of twins felt a slight ripple as a man appeared just behind them in a dark underground basement. It was only lit by a small hanging lamp that through harsh shadows all around them. There were a number sleeping bags by the wall and a manner of other survival items scattered across the floor. The children were no older than seven and, at the appearance of the older man, they immediately proceeded to jump upon the newcomer, not put off by his sudden strange appearance. "Davey! Davey! You're back!" the one of the left cried. He had a Spanish lilt to his words.

"That I am, Turo, that I am. Are you two alright? Hurt?" David asked them concernedly.

"We're fine, see?" Cristian raised his arms, showing not a bruise or scratch.

"Glad to see that, little monsters. I was worried, we did jump in quite a hurry after all," David scratched the back of his head and yawned. "Now," he continued, turning to the two identical dark-haired boys, "what did we learn today?"

"Always jump more than once! Makes you harder to find!" Cristian piped up.

"Don't let the Paladins catch you!" interjected Turo eagerly.

David smiled as they both looked up at him with earnest eyes. "We'll have to stay here for a few days and then I'll call Griffin okay? I'm sure he and the others are fine but I'm not sure if our stuff was tampered with." The blonde man stretched out on the floor and the other two lay beside him. He'd like to take them back to the city for something to eat tomorrow but what with that strange old man there he was unsure if it was safe.

Mutants were trouble for Jumpers. His kind had existed for centuries with only one enemy, with mutants enticing hatred left, right and centre it now meant they had to contend with other enemies. He and Griff had checked them the minute the mutant thing had blown wide open, donated samples of their blood to a scientist Jumper they knew (the guy had been lucky, he wasn't overly gifted with Jumping – only having done it four times in his whole life. The Paladins had never taken any notice of him). There was no correlation between Jumper blood and mutant blood. The gene structures were completely different. Mutants were humans unlocking their own abilities already present in the average human genome using a newly developed gene – the X-gene as some called it. Jumpers, in comparison, might as well be an entirely different species.

Well, there was no use worrying about it now. They'd got the children away safely from their most recent 'lair' – as Griffin liked to call them. It was only a temporary one anyway, nowhere as secure of Griffin's old one. They still needed to refurbish a lot of the new one and so they, and the children, had been stuck using an older 'lair' in the Grand Canyon. It was secure enough that when Roland did show his ugly, distinctly unfriendly, mug they were able to get away with the children fairly quickly. Fairly. It had been a close call.

Well, there was no use worrying about it now. He would check out the area tomorrow, if it proved too unsafe they would wait for Griffin's call for three days. If Griffin failed to call he would move to another safe house and begin the process again. If Griffin had still not called by the end of a month he would relocate directly to the new 'lair', check for danger and move the children in. He had learned long ago that, though this process was very, very boring, safe was definitely better than sorry.

After all, it was reckless behaviour that had got Millie killed in the first place.

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So so so! What did you guys think? Worth continuing? I'll buzz it along a chapter or so just to get the full initial idea out to peeps, see the reaction and whatnot. Please read and review so I can see what everyone thinks and whether this is worth having a serious crack at. I've got all summer and, well, this might just be fun.

R&R for cooookies (the cybernetic kind!)

- D


	2. Craters

Hey, guys! I am so sorry this took so long! My exams happened and then I went into full time work and then I got my results and now I have to get ready for uni. Ugh! It's been a crazy time. But I sat down and wrote this for all the people that replied. You are all so supportive! XD!

Just so everyone knows: I think Jumper is awesome. It may have some background problems but who cares? Critics call the plot 'unbelieveable'...HELLO! It has people teleporting! I don't really think that's relavent.

Ahem.

Sorry a friend and me had an arguement about it lol.

Without further ado:

ENJOY! (that's an order)

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**Chapter 2**

The world is a cold and abnormal place. When someone does something weird – even for this admittedly strange plane of being – it leaves traces. More brilliant minds, like the one possessed by Doctor Hank McCoy for example, notice these traces or clues; no matter how insignificant they may seem. It was this mental ability that allowed the doctor to discover the secret of the 'vanishing man'.

Missing children is a broad criterion to focus a search upon seeing as, sadly, it was not that uncommon. McCoy limited his search to America as the individual had hinted that greater answers could be found there by sheer force of numbers. Since computers could search automatically within this topic the task wasn't nearly as boring and arduous as it could have been. It only took an hour for the blue-haired beast-man to notice a correlation between the majority of the disappearances. Bodies were never found. Gruesome and seemingly insignificant but it was the first step on the ladder. The world was big but both accidents and killers could be painfully predicable – as horrifying as they were.

After separating these reports from the hundreds of others Doctor McCoy noticed something else distinctly odd. Many of the reports, around eighty percent in fact, required security clearance to be viewed. The security clearance requested, CIA official or higher, was very unusual for cases such as these. Not to mention he didn't have this clearance. What could possibly warrant such clearance? The fact it was CIA authorised was an indication of the fact there was something to hide.

It was only after he got access to the files of these investigations – by admittedly disreputable means – that things truly got interesting rather just being 'odd'.

In a standard missing persons report the police took pictures of many items, rooms and people familiar to the victim. It was done in a hope to recognise a motive or perhaps find a place where the missing person would return for safety. Anything that could possibly trace whereabouts. The pictures varied in colour and age but there was one commonality between all of them, or almost all.

Craters.

Huge craters flinging out deep cracks like a spider web. It was as if someone had dropped an enormous wrecking ball before taking it away once more, leaving behind shattered flooring and a large indentation to mark its passing. The force to create such a reaction would need to be immense – more immense than a wrecking ball really. Immeasurably immense.

The more he thought about the phenomenon the more confused the beastman became. What could have occurred to bring about such damage? What on earth could exert that much pressure to begin with? Dr McCoy was a genius, a brilliant scientist and yet he still couldn't puzzle it out. It took a similarly blue-furred individual named Kurt Wagner 'poofing' into existence in his lab to solve the seemingly unending mystery.

It was with a broad smile of accomplishment and some highly complicated mathematical calculations that he greeted Professor Charles Xavier with the beginning of what would become the answer.

The alb in which they met was large and filled with odd machinery. Test tubes bubbled away quietly in one corner while strange looking contraptions whirred in another. The room itself was underground and lit by the stark light of several overhead bulbs. A space had been cleared in the back of the laboratory, chairs had also been set out. A projector hummed ready on a small steel table. Doctor McCoy gestured for them all to sit as he dimmed the lights and prepared to unveil his discoveries.

"I have found the secret of your 'vanishing man'," he told them with a grin, "or at least the beginnings of it." He gestured to the various reports of missing children blown up by a projector on the far wall of his laboratory. Craters and cracks were outlined or circled in red pen, often with half formed equations next to them. "I noticed that in the houses of all these children, or at least the last places they were sighted alive, there were odd craters that I couldn't quite explain."

He turned to gaze at Xavier who was hidden in the half-shadow the room wallowed in, "it was only after Mr Wagner graced me with his presence did I realise that these craters could be the indicators of a form of teleportation."

There was silence in the room. It was Scott who spoke first, "Kurt doesn't make any such marks when he teleports," he pointed out quietly.

"No, he does not. But he does leave being the odd wisp of smoke. From our investigations into his mutation we have already surmised that when he teleports he slips into an alternate dimension, yes? The smoke is merely a trace of the world he vanishes into. These craters could also be after shocks, the method used to teleport the individual contained much backlash that was released into his environment as he left it, like Kurt's smoke."

McCoy then pulled up a very complicated equation upon the board and turned to look at Xavier and Jean Grey directly. "There are too ways to traverse distance instantaneously that can be classified as teleportation. Inter-world travel – shifted from one parallel to another as Kurt does – or worm holes. I believe that these craters, based on this calculation for the instantaneous force needed to create this reaction, are the after effects of a worm hole being opened and closed. It is violent and wastes much power."

Xavier leaned back in his wheelchair and closed his eyes, thinking a moment. "You believe the man we encountered used the same method?"

"I do, your description would match this method of travel," McCoy seated himself once more.

"Why didn't he make such a commotion then?" asked Logan from where he lurked in a dark corner. "If this reaction is so strong we should have seen something, right, bub?"

"Perhaps these individuals are also like Kurt in the way that they improve with experience," Xavier remarked slowly. He turned to aforementioned individual, "you initial stages of teleportation were unsteady were they not?"

Kurt nodded, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "when I first began it was difficult to go more than a few paces, I made more sound and smoke too."

""These are the disappearances of children, perhaps this reaction was caused by their inability to correctly control the vortex they created. The man you encountered was far more experienced and could use the power without ill effect." The doctor then looked uneasy and pulled up another set of calculations. "Something even more disturbing came of this however," he commented thoughtfully.

Xavier raised an eyebrow in silent question.

"A wormhole is like a vacuum, there is no air or atmosphere. A mutant or human wouldn't be able to survive the transition. They would die of air loss and pressure or…" the beastman looked away.

"Or?"

"If my calculations about the power used are correct the forces at work here would rip apart any normal human or mutant should they attempt to cross the wormhole. I would be very interested to know how this young man manages such a feat."

That caused silence, was the man right? Was he truly not a human or mutant at all?

"There is something else." Everyone turned to look at Ororo as she gazed at the projector screen. "Most of these children, they are below the age of ten. We are potentially dealing with children that can tamper with the balance of power capable of this," she gestured to the craters. "Also, from the attack endured by the young man we can only presume that there is something going on here, more than just a man with an odd ability."

More silence. "What should we do, professor?" asked Scot after a moment.

"Let us keep an eye out for our guests; they cannot hide here for long I'm sure. Certainly not if they are so ardently pursued." That said the X-men left the lab, some were intrigued but many were concerned.

…..

In the dark car park of a supermarket in Berlin a shadowy figure limped its way to the nearest people-carrier it could find. Grunting with pain the man dragged his left leg slowly across the tarmac. He eventually slumped, exhausted, against the sleek green door of a particularly large car containing what looked like seven seats. He gasped as he looked around, pushing brown hair out his eyes to scan for security cameras. Lucky the overhead floodlight was broken – courtesy of a well aimed rock – so he and the car were very difficult to see anyway.

He looked around a few more times before waving an arm towards the shadows he had emerged from – a set of dense bushes. There was a rustling before five smaller figures darted over to him at a much quicker places. The man counted the children as they reached to make sure he hadn't lost any of them and then he counted them again to be sure. He sighed with relief when all were present and correct. "Don't make a sound," he whispered as he pulled a very special key out of the inside pocket of his battered black jacket.

He inserted the key in the driver's door lock and turned, he smiled when a familiar click met his ears rather than the screeching of an alarm. "Get in!" he hissed as he climbed in and unlocked the other doors. The children scrambled inside.

The man placed the key in the ignition but before starting the car he reached under the steering wheel and yanked out a coil of wires. He squinted at them in the darkness briefly before snapping one and deactivating the car alarm. That done he turned the key and the car shuddered to life. He looked pointedly at the children, all of which proceeded to buckle themselves in guiltily.

He reversed the car out of the car parking space and drove out of the car park sedately. Driving too fast would attract attention. When he was motor way he glanced in his rear view mirror. "Time for roll call again kids. Amy?" he called.

"Here," answered the eldest of them, a thirteen year old girl wearing dungarees with dark blonde hair plaited so it hung between her shoulders.

"Louis?"

"Oui," said a French boy sitting to her left. He was no older than eight.

"James?"

"Here," mumbled the shyest member of his brood, a boy of nine with thick glasses and clear green eyes.

"Josie?"

"Here!" chirped a small girl the same age as James. She smiled brightly at him.

"Will?"

"Yep," grunted the twelve year old sitting next to him. Will was surly and quiet, he gazed out the window at the rushing light with his arms crossed.

The man nodded to himself, he hadn't lost anyone. Everything was okay. Except it wasn't. They had no where to go, David had vanished into the wind and would be very hard to contact. He wasn't sure he'd answer his mobile. Their new lair was nearly ready and, to top it all off, the kids had been in very real danger. He sighed angrily.

"Griff?" a tentative voice called from the back.

"Yes, James?" the surly northerner gazed at the boy through the rear view mirror.

"Were those the bad people that killed mum and dad?"

Great, it seemed to be awkward question time. David was so much better at this kind of shit than he was. "Yes," he answered shortly. "No you understand why we give you your lessons. They aren't safe to be around after all."

"But you and Davey hunt them!" cried Louis.

Griffin sighed in annoyance and glared at the kid, instantly regretting it when the small boy flinched. "Yes but we are older, more experienced. When anyone you jump alone you leave marks any Paladin could follow with his eyes shut!" He tensed his injured leg and grimaced. "When you're as good as us you can come with us, until then stick the rules ok?"

A few more minutes passed in silence before Amy asked; "what are we gonna do now, Griff?"

Griffin gave this some serious thought before answering. "I'm going to jump us to America, that's where Davey's first emergency jump-site is. We're going to hide out in Nevada for a while before heading to New York to call him."

"You think he's ok? The twins too?" James, out of all of them, had become the most attached to the blond man. It had been Davey's idea to save them and, to this day, Griff was glad he'd agreed. He wasn't so alone anymore.

Griff chuckled, "one thing our man is good at is running. Davey is the best speed jumper you'll ever meet not to mention a power house. I'm sure they're fine." He put on a brave face for the kids but inside he was facing the very real possibility that he was lying through his teeth.

"But the Paladins chased him…"

Griffin sighed for the umpteenth time. "Enough! I'm sure he's ok!" He revved the car into a higher gear and began to accelerate. He was preparing to jump. In the back the kids began to twitch excitedly. No one had ever been in a car with Griffin when he'd jumped but they'd heard all about it from Davey. "Ready, kiddos?" he called over the noise of the engine.

They all nodded eagerly.

"Take a deep breath!" With that Griffin threw them through a wormhole, clearly visioning the desert road of Nevada in his mind. They were jostled harshly by the jump as the crossed thousands of miles in a mere instant. In Berlin there was nothing to mark their passing except a small crack next to other weather-related cracks on the tarmac of the Berlin motor way.

There was a jolt as the car flew out of the wormhole just above the tarmac of the Nevada highway in the scorching heat. There was an even bigger jolt as the car came to a sudden stop. "OW GODDAMN IT!"

Griffin howled as his leg was badly jolted. He looked up to see a large truck, a blue lady and some other men that looked a bit shady looking at them with calculating eyes. Griffin himself had had those eyes not too long ago and they made him shudder. These people were ruthless.

It then occurred to him that the car was hovering. That wasn't right. He looked directly in front of him to see a man in a cape holding out his hand to them, seemingly keeping the car in place. "Kids, stay in the car. Whatever happens don't move. Got it?"

That said he jumped out and onto the tarmac, stumbling slightly as he forced weight on his injured leg. He looked from the man to the car and back again for a split second.

He sighed again.

That was it. He'd officially had it. Griffin was after all a slave to his rage.

"What the fuck?" he literally screamed at the weird old man in a cape. "What the fuck?"

* * *

SO? What do you think? I just had to get Griffin in! He's just that cool.

Remember: reviewers get cybercookies (almost as good as actual cookies)!

- D, peace out!


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